


Jessie's Girl

by italiandancer1275



Series: Supernatural [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Arizona - Freeform, Baby, College, F/M, Fluff, Furies, Hunters, Hunters & Hunting, Impala, POV Female Character, Reader-Insert, Season/Series 03, Supernatural Elements, Tucson, University of Arizona, Winchesters - Freeform, college girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:12:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10030964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/italiandancer1275/pseuds/italiandancer1275
Summary: The first time you meet the boys and change their lives forever. For the better of course. Switches perspectives between the reader and the Winchesters. Takes place after Season 3 Episode 1: The Magnificent Seven, i.e. 2008. Spoiler: You're kind of a badass ;)Y/N-Your nameY/L/N-Your Last NameY/N/N-Your Nickname (shortened version of your name)





	1. The Death That Starts It All

**Author's Note:**

> I know some of you may be confused as to why I deleted and am reposting, but I just wasn't satisfied with my last draft. I'm doing a complete revamp and hopefully this will be 10X better! Going chapter by chapter so bear with me. Here's something to start off with. Enjoy Lovelies <3

Tucson, Arizona. A college age girl is walking to her apartment from campus. She has her headphones in listening to "Bleeding Love". She has shoulder length brown hair, glasses, and a letterman’s jacket on over jeans. A streetlight begins to flicker and she takes her headphones out as she looks up at it. Thinking nothing of it, she places her headphones back in and continues walking. It is a cold night and she begins to shiver as she crosses her arms over her chest. A second shadow is seen behind her. She stiffens and becomes suspicious as she gets a hunch that someone is following her. She moves one hand down to the pepper spray keychain she keeps on her belt loop. She walks faster and when she feels her stalker is close enough, she whips around and sprays. No one is there. She gives a halfhearted laugh at her paranoia and turns back around to continue to her apartment. As she turns, her assailant is in front of her. A scream is heard and then an abrupt silence. All that is seen is her corpse hitting the cement, throat slit and blood spilling out.

#### SUPERNATURAL

#### 


	2. Directions

The Impala parked somewhere in Tucson as Sam and Dean exited it. “Feels good. Don’t it, Sammy.” Dean locked the car, his statement breaking the silence. “What’s that?” Sam questioned. “Being back. Mr. College boy _has_ to know his way around a campus. Tell me, how do I find the best Sorority?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, I went to Stanford. It wasn’t exactly known as a party school. U of A has an entirely different reputation. Why are we even here anyway? You’re going to hell Dean, don’t you think we have bigger fish to fry? One girl got her throat slit. That doesn’t exactly suggest our kind of thing. Please tell me there are other reasons you picked this case than…” Sam trailed off as he noticed that Dean was no longer paying attention. A college girl had jogged toward them wearing skintight yoga pants and a tank top. A vanilla scent seemed to smack both boys in the face as she passed them. She had only taken a few more steps when Dean looked to Sam and grinned. Quickly jogging toward her, Dean tapped her on the shoulder, forcing her to stop and face him. She took her headphones out and looked suspiciously at him.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt your workout. I’m a big supporter of exercise. An even bigger one of yoga pants (he winks), but do you think you could point me in the direction of the student union?” The girl looked to Dean, then the impala, and lastly glanced at Sam. She froze for only a second until her face quickly relaxed and she smiled. “Yea, no problem. Make a left on 4th, a right on University and follow it all the way to campus. It’s a big grassy knoll, you can’t miss it.” Dean flashed her a smile and she returned it with a nod as she jogged away, Dean’s eyes on her ass the entire time. Even Sam suddenly seemed to get very interested in the University brochure he had in his hand. It was a damn good ass. Not huge, but toned to the point that it stood out, in both senses of the word. Dean laughed as he strutted back toward Sam. “So I was right. We’re here for the college girls. You’re an idiot.” He stated simply, as he and Dean made their way to the campus. “I’m the idiot? Tell me Sam, how interesting _was_ that brochure you suddenly couldn’t take your eyes off of?” Sam’s cheeks turned a dark shade of red as he looked down and continued walking, brooding over the fact that he had been caught. Dean simply grinned, knowing he had won that one. Hey, it didn’t happen often.


	3. Meeting the Winchesters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit late! Took a little longer than expected, but still happy with it. Let me know what you think!

God, why did this case have to be in Tucson? At a college, no less. Your college. True you’d only done two years, but that was enough to scar you for life. You could practically hear your mother’s voice chastising you for picking hunting over an actual life and college education. You allowed yourself to feel guilty for only a second until you remembered what you were actually doing here. The crime scene had been cleared and the school classes cancelled, giving you a perfect opportunity to check it out. What you found was less than helpful. All you seemed to see were the bloodstains and a bit of sulfur nearby. You noticed a couple of Frat dudes walking by and shaking their heads at the tragedy. You took the opportunity to interrogate the guys and get a bit more information on the vic. Patricia Ramos was the whole reason you were in this depressed, sex-crazed, stressfest of a hellhole in the first place. You thanked the frat dudes for pointing you in the direction of Ramos’ place and made your way there.

You had history with this town. Posing as a Fed would be too risky. True, it was five years ago, but you couldn’t risk someone recognizing you as you’d built somewhat of a reputation for yourself in your time here. Not a pleasant one either. Hey, once a delinquent always a delinquent. And that was even before your hunter ways got the best of you. Normal was just too hard. Well, once you scratched that itch, it opened the floodgates. You always got the job done, and the bastard vaporized, but it did bring a certain amount of unwanted attention. Authorities were still trying to piece together what you had done to Mr. Dunn’s Chem lab, sophomore year. Regardless, without your Fed ruse, there was no way you were seeing that body. However, you did manage to use your skills to break into the local PD and gain access to some security footage and notes on the case. The murder was premeditated. Since you couldn't investigate yourself, this seemed to be the best you were gonna get. “You’re just going to blend in with the locals”, you thought as you squeezed your ass into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. It really wasn’t that uncomfortable, quite the opposite. But they weren’t exactly hunter friendly. While you were used to men staring at your ass, the yoga pants only amplified it. On any normal day, you wouldn’t mind. It was actually kind of an ego boost. But it was really hard to do your job and break into an apartment with half the dogs on campus staring at you. Your best way to seem normal was to act like some Sorority bimbo. Sighing, you plugged in your headphones and began to jog down the street.

A million thoughts were running through your mind. A slew of old memories from your time here were flooding back. You continued jogging, each step in beat with the song in your ears, “Back In Black”. Your love for classic rock stemmed from your father, but let's not talk about him at the moment. Or ever, for that matter. You were focused on your music and the landscape, counting each tree as you passed it and reading each street sign to make sure you were headed in the correct direction. You were so distracted with the combination of the memories and your current route that you passed two men and thought nothing of it. It was kind of a rookie move, not surveying your perimeter. You jogged a few more paces before something tapped your shoulder. Quickly whipping around, you caught the gaze of one of the men you passed. Pulling out your earphones, you studied his face. Holy friggin’ crap. This was Dean Winchester. Bobby had told you stories of the Winchesters and you’d recognize that cocky attitude and leather jacket anywhere. Not to mention the infamous impala was parked right down the street. God, She was prettier in person. You shifted your focus to check out the guy’s buddy. That must be Sam. Skater boy hair and towering over the rest of the world wasn’t an easy combination to mistake. It was then that you realized Dean was saying something to you. Crap, he pegged you as a hunter. You began formulating excuses in your mind so as to get away from these two. Bobby had mentioned that though he loved those boys like family, they were nothing but trouble, and you did not need trouble right now. Not to mention he'd tear you a new one for even talking to them. Oh thank god, he was only asking for directions. Your cover was safe for the moment. He had no idea. Keeping in line with your cover, you gave him the answer he was looking for and flashed him a smile. Plugging your earphones back in, you jogged off, knowing that there were eyes on your ass. Maybe yoga pants were a good thing.

Analyzing the chances of meeting the Winchesters was just going to have to wait until later. You arrived at Patricia’s apartment complex and looked around. It was about eight in the morning, the perfect time slot when most every college student was still asleep, so the place was pretty deserted. You found her door and slipped the lock pick you kept in the waistband of your pants out of its fabric home. Taking one last glance around, you did what you do best; picked the lock. You had the door open in under four seconds and quickly shut it behind you. Flipping on the light switch, you did a quick scan of the place and your eyes immediately flitted to one area near your feet. There was absolutely nothing to indicate anything was wrong in the room except for the two quarter-sized yellow piles of sulfur to each side of you. You’d recognize that smell anywhere. Demons. A brief flash of anger clouded your vision, but then the silver lining showed. At least you knew what you were up against. You switched the light off and left the apartment. You needed to make a plan. A smart one. As far as you could tell, two piles, two demons. Game on, bitches.

 

But first, alcohol.


	4. The Bar

Sam and Dean had all but exhausted themselves talking to the locals and catching up to speed with the cops. There were no witnesses that night and as far as the police were concerned, it was personal. They had their hands tied investigating old boyfriends of the victim, which actually worked in Sam and Dean’s favor, as it kept them out of the way. Still, it was for the best. No one needed to know what was really out there. The only person who had a remotely helpful clue for this case was the cleaning man who had to deal with the mess the next morning. In his interview, he told the brothers, “I never seen so much blood.” But that wasn’t the part of his testimony that they were interested in. No, what caught their attention was the small detail that the man let slip: “There was something next to the body. Flour or something. But Yellow.”  
  
“Did it have a smell? Maybe like rotten eggs?”  
  
“Exactly! Smelled awful!” Bingo. Sulfur only fits one freak. Looks like work for today was done. At least the field work. The boys still had to check John's journal and some other lore for the certain kind of demon they were up against. It might help them find a motive and therefore, the next target. In hindsight, opening hell's gate and freeing a multitude of black-eyed freaks sure was coming back to bite them in the ass. However, they still had time for a pit stop.  
  
Sam and Dean found themselves at a joint called ‘Dirtbags’. Despite the name, the place wasn’t half bad. It was certainly better than the first bar they tried. At least in Sam’s eyes. Who would’ve known what looked like a hole in the wall joint, turned out to be a drag queen club. And boy were they loving Sam. Dean, of course, was of no help and simply sat back to enjoy the view and laugh his ass off. Needless to say, they got out of there quickly. Per Sam’s demand, the next place couldn’t even be on the same street as IBT’s.  
  
Dirtbags was decently filled and both boys were on their second beer. The stool to the right of Dean found itself soon filled by the owner of a sultry voice, who spoke up. “Hey Charlie, can I get a double?” The bartender flipped around, nodded, and poured the pretty girl a drink with a smile. “Thanks babe.” She lifted her drink in a mock “Cheers” toward Charlie and downed it, flipping her chestnut hair while doing so. That’s when it hit Dean. A vanilla scent that prompted his memory. Holy hell, this was yoga pants. From this morning. Only she wasn’t in typical jogging wear. No, this version had on light wash skintight jeans, heeled ankle boots, and a leather jacket that hung over a loose-fitting grey tank. It was like night and day from the girl he’d met that morning. He liked a woman who could pull off the whole multiple personality thing. Damn, he didn’t think it was possible, but her ass actually looked better like this than in the yoga pants. Target acquired. Chicks dig Feds. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
You uncrumpled the small piece of paper you friend Charlie had given you with the address of the bar he was working at. Charlie was an old friend, and a damn good hunter. Retired at the moment, but you knew he’d get back out there eventually. He was the whole reason you were back in Tucson in the first place. Suspicious of demon activity, he gave you a call, as you knew the area well. If he played his cards right, he could probably be the West coast version of Bobby Singer. But for now, you’d have to accept him as a bartender.  
  
You stood outside a place called ‘Dirtbags’. Walking in, you spotted Charlie behind the bar and took the stool closest to him. Charlie knew your pre-hunt drink was always bourbon and poured you a double. It was downed as fast as it was poured. As you were setting your glass down to signal for another, a gritty voice interrupted your evening. “Now I just gotta know the name of the girl who can handle a double like that.” Extremely used to being hit on, you rolled your eyes and turned to look at this harasser. What you saw caught you off guard. It was Dean Winchester. Again. Man, your perception skills were really getting rusty. You kept hearing Bobby's warning for you to stay away from them ring in your head, but you couldn’t help it, you were damn curious if the man and his brother lived up to the stories. From what you'd heard, they were kind of screw ups, but still damn good hunters. You decided to break your rules, just this once, and talk to this one. “Y/N. And you are?” Dean flashed you a smile as he pulled out a fake badge from his rented suit. “Agent Tull and my partner Agent Lee. But you can call me Dean. And this here's Sam.” You almost felt bad for playing along with the lie. Almost. “Feds. Impressive. What brings you two to Tucson?” Sam cleared his throat. “We’re uh, in the middle of an investigation.” This was the first time Sam had spoken to you. “Ah, Patricia Ramos, I assume?” Neither of them shifted in expression. “So yes.” You said conclusively. Dean tilted his head and leaned in a bit. “Friend of yours?” You tilted back slightly, just enough for him not to notice. “You could say that.” At this point Charlie had poured you another double and set it down in front of you. “Well, I’m sorry for your loss.” Nodding your head slightly and looking down, "Yea, me too." You picked up your drink and “cheersed” the boys in Patricia’s honor. True you didn’t know the girl, but no one deserves to go out like that. Deciding that your little experiment had played itself out, you realized that you had more important things to do. “Well, it was nice meeting you gentlemen.” You stood up and slapped your cash on the bar for Charlie. Dean moved to stop you but you left before he could say anything more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Dean and Sam sat dumbfounded, watching the vanilla-scented girl leave the bar. Coming back to reality, both brothers noticed the same thing. There was a little tan rectangle on the floor directly under the chair that Y/N had just occupied. She must’ve dropped her ID. Looking up at each other, both Winchesters said simultaneously, “Dibs!” Sam gave Dean a disapproving look. “Dean, we have to give it back.”  
  
“And I will. There just may be some strings attached.”  
  
“You’re holding it for ransom?”  
  
“I don’t think getting frisky with me is a crime Sammy.”  
  
“Dean.”  
  
“Sam.”  
  
Seeing as the boys were at an impasse, a tiebreaker was needed. Sam raised his fist, as did Dean, both men rising from their stools. The air tensed around the bar. They were going to settle this like men… With good old fashioned rock-paper-scissors.


	5. Raincheck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to let me know what you think! :)

You struggled to get your motel keys from your jacket after parking your car. It was a 1992 Jeep Wrangler Sahara. Nothing special, but hey it was pretty cool to have a Jurassic Park mobile. I mean, sure you’d prefer a classic, but in this line of work, it just wasn’t practical.

As you walked to your room, you turned around and gave one last perimeter check, given that you’d been so sloppy earlier… twice. Concluding that it was all clear, you continued your route to your room. After fighting with the crappy door of the crappy motel room in a crappy area, you sighed and laid your jacket on the chair nearest the window. You grabbed the black duffel bag you kept under the bed and began to fill it. You put your rosary, holy water, and salt on top of the extra flannels and knives. Lastly, you added in several cans of spray paint to the side pockets. You were just about done when you heard "Thunderstruck" begin to play. Walking to the table where your phone currently rested, you realized you didn’t recognize the number. Thinking nothing of it (as hunters change their numbers all the time), you answered. “Hello?”

“Y/N? Hey it’s Agent Lee, from the bar.” This caught your attention. Why was the younger Winchester calling you? “Sam. Well you’re not one to waste time are you? How’d you get my number?” You tried to play it cool, but it worried you a bit that these guys were keeping tabs on you. According to Bobby, the Winchesters were not the people you wanted on your tail. “Well, you sorta forgot your ID at the bar and Charlie, the bartender, was nice enough to give us your contact information.” You were utterly surprised. And a little pissed at Charlie, as he so clearly did this to screw with you. Bastard. You never forgot anything, much less an ID. Checking your back pocket (yes you know it wasn’t the safest place to keep it), you found that Sam was indeed right. Dammit, you didn't have time for this. “Yup, that’s mine. You free tonight?”

“Yea, my partner and I can drop it off at your place on our way back.” Looking around your motel room, what with all the research pinned to your walls and weapons freely laid on the bed, you realized that was a bad idea. “Um, I’ll go to you guys. Where you staying?” You heard Sam and Dean arguing on the other line about if it was a good idea for you to go to their room. Coming to a decision, Sam finally responded. “It might take us a while to get back, so give it about an hour. We’re at the Lazy 8 motel. Room 119.”

“Great. And where the hell is that?”

“Haha, it’s right off Benson Highway.”

“Right. See you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Despite your experiment earlier, you really didn’t want to see the Winchesters again. And yea, maybe you were a bit standoffish on the phone, but you had things to do. You didn’t have an hour to kill. As if answering your current complaint, you suddenly received a text from Sam. Traffic was super light so it looked like they’d be back sooner than they thought. Sighing and rolling your eyes, you grabbed your jacket, keys, and phone and left for the Winchester’s room. It really wasn’t that bad as you were staying at the Frontier Motel and it was only an eight-minute drive. Less, if you drove like you normally did. You revved the engine (just for effect) and made your way down the high way.

You parked two spots to the right of the Winchester’s room, next to the infamous Impala. She was mesmerizing. You ran your fingers along her hood and just took in the view for a second. Maybe one day you could beg Bobby to let you take her for a spin while the boys were visiting and distracted. Sure, your car was nothing spectacular, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have an appreciation for cars that were. Remembering why you were there in the first place, you walked up to room 119 and knocked. Surprisingly, Dean answered and Sam was nowhere to be found. “Agent.” Dean kind of smirked and leaned on the side of the doorframe. Reaching to his right, he picked your ID up off the side table by the door. He snapped it on his fingers and held it out to you. “Looking for this?” You grabbed it out of his hands and tucked it in your back pocket (that falling out incident was a one-time thing…probably). “Thanks. See you around.” You began to walk back towards your Jeep. “Fairfax, Indiana huh?” That jackass studied your license. Your real license (you figured you didn’t need a fake with Charlie). You really expected more from the famous Dean Winchester. Actually scratch that, from the stories you’d heard, you really didn’t. You sighed and turned around. "You snooped." Dean pressed his lips together and looked up at you. "Can you blame me? See, I met this chick at a bar and she ran out before I even got to make a move. What do you say we finish that conversation?" That's twice now that Dean Winchester has hit on you. Just for the record. “Sorry gotta run. Raincheck? Sam apparently has my number.” You noticed Dean register the rejection just as Sam exited the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist. “Sam.” You nodded in acknowledgement and averted your eyes. He looked up and the look on his face was priceless. He semi-smiled and his hands instinctually came up to cover what he could of his torso. “Later boys.” You laughed as you turned around and walked back to your vehicle.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean closed the door a little perplexed. He wasn’t used to being rejected. Though the look on Sammy’s face was fantastic. Little did he know that Dean had stolen his phone and texted Y/N an earlier time. Hey, Sam got to make the call, it was only fair that Dean be the one to deliver the goods. Realizing what had happened, Sam threw a massive bitch face at Dean as well as a pillow. "You're a freaking jerk!" Dean caught the pillow and just laughed it off. Still, something was eating at him about that girl. He’d been rejected before, not often, but it happened every now and again. But this feeling wasn't that. It was something different. There was something so familiar about her. He was going to figure it out.


	6. In True Winchester Fashion

Your research had led you to conclude that the demons were staying in one of three possible abandoned warehouses. They were planning to stay a while, given that your informant (who let’s face it was an intern who you allowed to see a little more leg than most guys) at the local station notified you of two college boys that had stopped by. The idiots told the cops that there was a woman who choked one of them in order to get information about not only Patricia, but other folks in town as well. Information that would’ve been useful after finding the body, but still, eavesdropping on this police interview gave you what you needed. Apparently, “The bitch’s eyes were black. I swear dude.” If Patricia wasn’t the only one on their list, it seems that the demons had a motive for killing her. An outlier when it came to demon behavior. After the kids walked away from the cops, you approached them and prodded them further. “What were the names she mentioned?”

“I don’t know, it’s kinda fuzzy (the douche began rubbing his fingertips together).” You rolled your eyes and pulled a twenty out from your pocket. The idiot took it and slapped it in his buddy’s hand. “I really only remember one. Trevor Cassidy. She mentioned more but I swear I don’t remember them.”

“Did she have any defining characteristics? Or maybe she said something? Anything that could possibly be helpful?”

“Maybe you could come back to my place and I’ll tell you everything.” The rat licked his lips and you rolled your eyes. Your patience was running thin and you just didn’t have time for this. You grabbed the jerk’s collar and shoved him against the station wall, his buddy watching the entire thing. “I’m not playing around here kid! People are getting hurt so do you know anything or not?”

“Jesus lady! She said something about a warehouse, that’s all I know!” You released him and both guys scattered. Jackasses.

And that was pretty much how you ended up here. You were pinned against a concrete wall with a woman using her demonic powers to keep you there. “You weren’t on our list Weston. Don’t exactly fit the criteria, but I guess I can make an exception. I’m gonna kill you, your cute little college buddies, and anyone else who gets in my way.”

“Yea? We’ll see about that, bitch.” The demon thrust her hand forward, choking you for only a second until you let out a small laugh. “Think torture’s amusing, you maggot?” You let out another strained huff as she took another step towards you. “No, I think it’s amusing that you think you’re hurting me.” That pissed her off. Again, she thrust her hand and sent a powerful grip to your neck. She began to drag you up the wall with a grin on her face. Your legs began to flail as you couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam and Dean had a long afternoon of interviewing the two dumbasses that managed to come forward with vital information regarding the case. After these guys confessed to the police, the officers thought it best that the Feds who had forcefully taken over their investigation handle this one. The Sam and Dean kind of Feds anyway. They were just finishing up the interview when one of the guys mentioned some crazy, hot chick asking for the same information. Sam looked to Dean and the college guys were once again interrogated (not so nicely).

The impala sped into the parking lot of the second warehouse the boys decided to check. They got out of the car and opened Her trunk, getting flasks and bottles of holy water. Taking down a demon was not easy. They should know, the boys just had to deal with seven. This job would be so much easier with that knife that wonder woman used back at the seven deadly sins situation. But alas, the boys would have to settle for the old-fashioned way. They approached the door and Dean went to pick the lock. He stuck one of his tools in the hole and the door pushed open just a bit. This door had already been broken into. This must be the place. The boys took two steps inside and Dean immediately recognized her. Y/N. The demon had her halfway up the wall and she didn’t look like she was doing well. Dean shoved Sam to get his attention and then grabbed his flask of holy water from his jacket. The boys began shaking the water on the demon and switching back and forth on the exorcism. The demon didn’t know whom to stop and whenever she got too close to one of the brothers she got a face full of holy water.

It was the weirdest thing. It almost seemed like Y/N was against exorcising this demon. She couldn’t breathe at the moment, but it was like she was straining to say ‘no, wait’. Sam couldn’t focus on that for now. Dean splashed the demon one last time as Sam said the departing words ‘Audi nos’. Y/N was dropped to her feet and coughing out a lung, trying to get her air back. Dean was expecting the hero’s thank you as Y/N opened her mouth to speak. “What do you think you’re doing?” What the hell?  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Saving your ass. You’re welcome by the way.” Dean Winchester. Always trying to be the hero. “Did you really think I was stupid enough to come in here half-cocked without a plan?” Dean scoffed at you and Sam simply looked confused. “Y/N you were halfway up a wall. You know what that thing was? It was a demon. You had no shot.” You stared condescendingly at Dean and simply pointed up towards the ceiling. The brothers both looked up slowly to see a masterfully crafted devil’s trap. Had the demon taken one more step in your direction, you would have had her. The Winchesters looked to you with a mixture of confusion and apologetic stares. “This (you motion to where the altercation went down) was an interrogation, not an extermination, thank you, really, because now I’ve just lost that information.” Dean let out a small laugh and you and Sam both looked to him. “That rhymed,” was all he said. It took all you could do at that moment not to punch Dean Winchester in the face.


	7. Answers

You rubbed your neck with your left hand as you made your way to the body lying in the corner. It was a young male, early twenties. Your right hand extended to try to find a pulse. You highly doubted you would, given the five-inch laceration across the front of his neck, but you still had to try. Finding nothing, you sighed and removed your fingers. Reaching in the Vic’s pocket, you pulled out a beaten up brown leather wallet. Analyzing the contents, you found what you were looking for: the ID. Trevor Cassidy. Crap. The demon had already finished the deed by the time you’d arrived, so there was literally nothing you could’ve done. But still, no matter how many times you’d seen it, death always got to you, just a little. Never enough to affect your work, but you still hadn’t gone numb to it yet. Something to work towards. You noticed the Winchesters eyeing you carefully, having a silent conversation of their own. You stood slowly and simply walked past them, not saying a word. The boys began to follow you. Stopping just before the exit, you pulled your jacket over your fist and punched in the fire alarm glass to pull the switch. You had just about seven minutes to vacate unless you wanted to get caught with the, now two, bodies lying on the floor.

“You Winchesters sure live up to your reputation,” the door swung shut behind you. The boys exchanged a look and stopped it before it slammed on them. Tonight hadn’t gone how they expected either. And they certainly didn’t expect you to know who they really were. “So what finally gave us away, huh sweetheart?” Dean taunted you as he followed, keeping up surprisingly easily. “Please. I sniffed you out the moment you asked for directions.” You began to walk faster towards the Jeep, not wanting to have this discussion. Dean was getting close at this point and reached his arm out to grab yours. “Look, just hold on a second okay?” You turned to face him, your expression unamused. “I’m sorry we ruined your interrogation or whatever, but you’re not completely blameless in this either. This whole situation could’ve been avoided if you hadn’t lied to us in the first place.” You yanked your arm from Dean’s grip and took a few steps away so you were equally distant from both brothers. “Hey, I never lied. I just… didn’t tell the whole truth. There’s a difference.” Dean rolled his eyes and Sam laughed under his breath. Finally getting a word in, the younger Winchester spoke up. “So if you're a hunter, why haven’t we heard of you before? It’s not exactly a big community. For that matter, why keep it from us in the first place?” You sighed and looked around, debating how much you were gonna give these guys. “I have my reasons (or Bobby does, but who’s fact checking?).” You could hear sirens distantly down the road. Four minutes. Dean’s eyebrow raised, “Well thank you, that explains everything. Quit being a smartass and just tell us who you are.” Jackass. “My story’s most like everyone else’s. Used to have a mom and a sister. Now I don’t. I have demons to thank for that. And tonight, I was supposed to be one step closer to wiping them off the face of the Earth. So really, thanks again boys.”

“The bitch is still gone, I’m not really seeing the problem here,” Dean intervened. Sam was pondering your life story and gave you a sort of sympathetic look. Exactly what you didn’t want, from anyone. That part of your speech had clearly gone right over Dean’s head. “The problem, jackass (that oddly felt good to say aloud), is that while, yes, one black-eyed-bitch is gone, I now have to start back at square one. Without that interrogation, I have nothing on where her partner is or any of the other names on their list. Anyone else gets hurt, that’s on me.” You studied Dean’s face. He honestly hadn’t calculated the consequences of his and Sam’s actions. The sirens were getting louder and you had about two minutes. “That’s what I thought. Well, I wish I could say it was great meeting you boys, but alas, I gotta cover my ass now. See you around, or actually, hopefully not.” You again walked to your car and unlocked the door. Sam was bold enough to take a few steps in your direction and speak up. “Y/N, look, we know a thing or two about feeling guilty over the bad stuff. Trust me. But regardless, the case is still open and it’s not all on you. Like it or not we caught this one too. We’re not just gonna sit back and let you do it on your own. I think the best way to go about this is to work together.” You stopped mid-step up into the vehicle and froze. You slowly turned and looked deep in Sam’s eyes, seeing nothing but earnest intentions. Looking down and over to Dean, you actually saw the same thing (with just a bit of resistance), yet still well hidden under that Casanova exterior. The brothers really did feel bad for messing up your night. Sighing, you looked to the black asphalt of your parking spot and bit your lip. “Meet me at the Frontier motel. I’ll show you what I have and maybe we can catch this thing before it kills anyone else. Now unless you want to explain to the coppers why there are two doornails inside, I suggest we leave.” A slight smile broke out on both boys’ faces. Yep, this was gonna come back to bite you in your well-toned ass.


	8. Cards On The Table

The Impala followed your Jeep all the way back to the motel. You parked right in front of your door and locked the car as Sam and Dean exited theirs. Shaking your hair back into place after enduring the tornado that comes with driving with the tarp off, you noticed the older Winchester staring at your vehicle with disdain. So not in the mood, you ignored it and went to unlock your motel door. "That’s a, uh, nice ride you got there.” Dean managed to get out as you struggled with the lock. “Hey, this is the West. You tell me how your impala fares in the Rockies.” Dean’s face twisted at the implication of something his Baby couldn’t do. He was about to retort when you finally shouldered your door and it opened with a loud crack. Damn cheap wood.

"Come on in." You gestured for the boys to enter. The Winchesters stepped foot in your room and looked in amazement. You had case files and maps of Tucson and pretty much any other information needed for this case pinned to your wall. “And I thought you needed to get out more Sammy.” You glared at Dean as you slipped your leather jacket off, revealing the grey tank top underneath. You then stretched your arm to reach on top of the bed frame; retrieving the file you created that included everything you needed to know about this case. The tip of your shirt inched up just a fraction, exposing your lower back, and Dean Winchester sure as hell noticed. After grabbing the carefully hidden item, you slapped it on the table in front of the Winchesters. “Boys, welcome to professional.” Dean rolled his eyes but Sam was mesmerized. He looked to you for permission and you simply gave him a nod. That was all he needed to dive in. “Geez Sammy, don’t hurt yourself.” Without even taking his eyes from the file, almost like a reflex, “It’s Sam.” You held your hands in a mock ‘don’t shoot’ position and let Sam do his thing.

Ten minutes had passed and you and Dean were growing restless. Sam was nose deep in the file and the two of you were standing awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs. Coming up with an idea to make things less weird, you walked over to the fridge and pulled three beers out. Alcohol makes everything better (you can quote me on that). You set one down in front of Sam and handed the other to Dean, who leaned against the wall. You brought your beer to your crotch and cracked her lid with your belt buckle. “So is this the norm for the two of you? Sam’s the research guy and you’re the muscle?” Dean fidgeted slightly and brought the bottle to his lips. “Yea, pretty much,” he responded, taking several more swigs. There was another awkward silence until Dean broke it once again. “So, be honest with me here, have we met before? You clearly seem to know us and I swear I’ve seen you before.” You were conflicted. Should you tell them the truth? Sighing and deciding to trust them (even though Bobby clearly didn’t…when it came to you anyway), you walked over and sat on your bed. Dean followed suit and found a spot right next to you, straddling the corner. “All cards on the table? No, we’ve never officially met. But I did know John.” This intrigued Dean. Even Sam stopped studying the file to look in your direction and listen. “Not well, but my father served with him and he came by to visit a couple times.” Dean shifted to face you further. “What was your father’s name?”

“Weston. Jessie Weston.”

“Dad never mentioned a Jessie Weston.”

“That’s because he did an extra three tours and never came home from the last one.”

Sam tilted his head in sympathy. Your life just seemed to be a Nicholas Sparks novel to people and you hated the pity in their eyes. But Sam’s look didn’t contain pity. It contained something you could only describe as understanding. Charlie had mentioned that John passed in the last few years and you attributed Sam’s look to that. “So was John the one who saved you from the demon who got your mom and sister? I only bring it up because demons aren’t really known to leave survivors.” Sam inquired. You looked down and laughed just a bit. “You're a smart one Sam. I don't know how he knew, but John came in there guns blazing. He got me out. After that I stayed with a family friend. Pretty sure you know him too. Bobby Singer is a hell of a guy.” Realization dawned on both boys’ faces. Bobby was the connection. “Well, I think that’s enough sharing and caring for one night. Got anything I missed Sam?” Sam shook off what he had just learned and turned back to the folder. “Actually, yea. You gathered some great information on Patricia, but after doing a background on Trevor, I found that the Vics have something in common. Get this, Patricia’s mom died in child birth and Trevor’s dad was in a fatal accident taking him to a baseball game.” You thought to yourself, trying to piece together the information. “So what? Dead parents are the connection? If that were the case we’d all be on that list. The demon distinctly told me I wasn’t.” Sam shook his head. “Not just dead parents. Kids who caused their parent’s deaths.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say Trevor and Patricia had it coming. It wasn’t their fault?”

“Yea, well demons don’t exactly see grey area. I think we’re actually dealing with some furies here guys. I mean the lore says there are normally three, but it had nothing concrete to go on. It also mentions that they were believed to have been Greek Goddesses, but there’s a very real possibility that they could’ve just been demons in disguise. It’s not unheard of. And after just dealing with the literal Seven Deadly Sins, I wouldn’t put it passed them.” Realization dawned on you. You hadn’t read too much, but given the information you had researched on the Erinyes (the proper name) previously, Sam was really making sense. You also noticed how quiet Dean had grown. However, deciphering what that was about was going to have to wait, no matter how much the analyst in you wanted to thoroughly pick it apart.

Now all that was left was finding the final spook and killing it. That’s when you had an epiphany of your own. You walked up behind where Sam was sitting and flipped through the papers to find what you were looking for. Once located, you slapped the map of Tucson down on the table. “So the location of the first murder and the location of the warehouse where we found the second are here. Notice anything directly in the middle?”

“Warehouse number three.”

“I’m assuming you didn’t check this one out either. Now I’m not one-hundred percent sure, but I’m willing to bet that demon number two is staking out there.” You looked to Sam and Dean with a glint in your eye, almost too excited to have the final piece of the puzzle solved. You hated that a Winchester had been the one to crack your case, but you still had the urge to kiss him. Not romantically, of course, but you were one step closer to leaving this stupid town, and you were damn grateful.  
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To say Dean was having a rough night was an understatement. Not only was he not gonna get damsel in distress thank you sex, but he found out his "damsel" was also a hunter. One that had a history with his father, as well as Bobby. Things just got all sorts of complicated. Not to mention Y/N was being sexy as hell all night without even realizing it. It started with the stupid file. Exposing her lower back was a bad move. Lower back dimples were secretly a turn on for Dean. Then to go and open a beer bottle with a belt buckle? I mean c’mon who does that if they aren’t getting paid to turn a guy on? He was eternally uncomfortable. At least he would have material to playback when he got some alone time. He wouldn’t even need to steal Sam's computer or buy a magazine. But that still wasn’t even the biggest breakthrough of the night. He cracked his personal case. Where he knew Y/N from. He’d been snooping at Bobby’s once a couple years ago and stumbled across a picture in his desk drawer. A picture of Y/N. Must’ve been a high school portrait or something cause she was in a little black dress that suggested gymnastics, maybe dance team or something along those lines. He clearly remembered the red “Captain” logo embroidered on the right side of the perky chest. He also remembered thinking then about the fun he could have. Just think of the flexibility. Now here he is, several years later, face to face with the girl, working a case with her. Which brings us to what was really eating at Dean. The Furies apparently went after children who have harmed or wronged a parent. It was over a year ago, but it still stung like hell. Dean just kept replaying the image of John, dead on the floor in that hospital room in his mind. It was making him numb to the outside world. Not to mention he was about to do the same thing to Sammy. Dean had a lot to process, to say the least.


	9. Group Hunt

You threw your jacket back on and went to grab your keys from the side table next to the door when Sam put his hand on top of yours. Looking up to meet his gaze, you raised your eyebrows. He quickly pulled his hand off of yours so as not to lose it (smart boy). “Uh, I was just thinking that since we’re working together on this one maybe we should drive together? I don’t see a reason two cars are needed and seeing that it’s now raining and you left the top down….”. You looked outside. Son of a bitch! Stupid monsoon season. Sighing, you dropped the keys back on the table and nodded. “Yea, I guess that makes sense. (You look to Dean)…Can I drive?” He simply laughed as he passed you to walk out the door, Sam following behind. You looked at the boys ahead of you and sighed.

You walked up to the car and as Sam and Dean entered it, you stroked her silver handle. You were going to savor this moment. Yes, Dean Winchester was kind of a moron, but you couldn’t blame the car for that. Pressing your thumb into the handle to click Her open, you slid onto the black leather of the seat behind Sam. Finally inside, you reminisced about the one time that John had brought this car by to visit with your mom. He was even nice enough to let you play inside of it (you were only about six at the time). It was the first week after your father went on his second deployment. John just wanted to make sure the family was okay.

“You gonna shut the door or what?” Dean says from the driver’s seat. “Oh, yeah, sorry.” He brought you out of your thoughts just in time. Now was not the moment to get into daddy issues. The engine roared to life and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t get just a tinge of arousal. You took one last glance out the window and watched as your room got smaller and smaller, a bad feeling building in your gut.

About half an hour passed and you finally arrived at the third and final warehouse, praying that the other demon was taking refuge there. You reached in your black duffel bag and pulled out your gold plated desert eagle. You twirled the gun on your index finger and deposited him in the back of your pants. Sure guns were useless, but you sure as hell felt better taking it in with you. “Ah man, you gotta let me test him out one day,” Dean says as he deposits his own ivory gripped firearm in the back of his jeans. “Only if you let me drive someday.” He contemplated this and finally answered, “I’ll think about it.” You risked a smile and shook your head. There was a ‘one-day'. Meaning the boys planned to keep in touch. Interesting. Figuring out how that made you feel would have to wait until later. You had a job to do.

Trying to open the door of the warehouse, you quickly realized it was locked. Sam stepped forward; ready to pick it when you held your arm out and gave him a look. No Winchester brother was going to upstage you at your own game. Sam read your expression and took a step back. You decided to go with the pick that you kept in the inside pocket of your jacket. Slipping the rod into the lock, you had it open in seconds. You looked up just long enough to smirk at the brothers and entered the building.

Yea, that whole entering the building thing…bad idea. You took one step inside and were immediately flung into some antique wooden cabinet. With glass display cupboards. The wood splintered and the glass shattered, each substance finding millions of tiny pieces embedded in your body. The bitch threw you hard. Struggling to get up, you saw that both Sam and Dean were pinned against the wall, Sam currently being choked. Thinking fast, you dipped your fingers into a particularly bad gash on your leg and began painting symbols on the floor. You overheard the demon saying something about how John’s death was Dean’s fault and he fit right on the list. Hurrying your task, you closed the circle and stood up. “Hey bitch, you gonna talk all day or are we gonna fight?” The brunette that the demon was currently occupying turned to look at you and walked in your direction. “You’re either stupid or suicidal. Either way, you’re dying today.” She was getting close to where you needed her to be, but instead of fighting fair, again she raised her hand and threw you, this time, into some metal shelving. Yea, you dented the metal. This whole furniture storage thing was really working to her benefit. And definitely not in yours. “And this time stay down.” She turned to walk back to the boys and suddenly stopped. Looking down, she saw your blood-crafted devil’s trap and laughed. Without even looking up, she smirked, “You really thought it would be that easy? You’re dumber than you loo-!” At this point you had found a Hail Mary. There happened to be fire pokers next to the shelving. Iron pokers. Before the bitch could finish her sentence, you had used it to choke her from behind, pressing it against her neck. The harder she struggled, the tighter your grip. She was sandwiched between you and the rod. You began to recite an exorcism, your lips pressed to her ear and she really started to fight you, clawing at your arms with her nails. She drew blood, but in comparison with everything else, it was barely a scratch. You pulled and struggled with her, inching her closer and closer to your homemade devil’s trap. She was really fighting hard. With a final blow, she threw her head back into yours, causing you to land on your ass and her next to you, precisely in the center of the trap. She let out a scream that felt like nails on a chalkboard to your pounding brain. “You three are gonna burn. I’ll make sure of it!” You grabbed your forehead and finished the exorcism, the black smoke leaving the brunette’s body in a tornado-like haze.

The boys were released and went to help her when you let out a groan. Remembering the third member of the hunting party, Dean broke off to go help you while Sam grabbed the meat suit. He checked you over to make sure nothing was broken. After satisfying that criteria, he went to help you up. His hands twitched above you, trying to figure out the best way to do it without hurting you further. There was also doubt in his expression, as he didn’t want to offend you by touching you the wrong way or anything. “Just help me up jackass, I promise I won’t sue.” Bringing a bit of humor seemed to work as he smiled and relaxed, swinging one of your arms around his neck and bringing you to your feet. Placing his other arm around your waist, the two of you made your way to the car, your ribs and head aching from the impacts. After finally getting you situated in the back seat, Dean ran to the driver’s side and started the car. You were a little embarrassed that it had taken you well over two minutes to realize that you were not alone in the back. The brunette that had kicked your ass was sitting on the other side, still unconscious. Given that you had just had the sense beaten out of you, you decided to give yourself a pass, just this once.

The impala arrived at the nearest urgent care and Sam got out to grab the girl. He carried her to the front and placed her gently on the ground, running back to the car. You checked his expression and you were a bit perplexed. He was ashamed of what he just did, like he didn’t want anyone to judge him for it. Hell, you weren’t gonna judge him. Every hunter’s done the same thing. You’d literally done it earlier that day. It really was best not to have to answer any questions. Besides, someone was obviously going to find her. By that one look alone, you’d learned so much about Sam. He was different than most hunters.

Sam slammed the door to the car and Dean drove away. You began to pick at the larger pieces of glass and wood in your body, trying to pry them out. Dean looked at what you were doing in the rearview and dug a bandana out from his jacket. "Here". It was almost a sweet gesture. “So you don’t get blood on my seat.” You stand corrected. Shaking your head, you went for the big one. There was a piece of wood lodged in your thigh, the same piece you used when you needed blood for the trap. However, there was a problem. The wood was broken off from a corner, creating an L shape inside the wound. You knew what you had to do, but you really didn’t want to. You grabbed the knife from your boot and pulled your belt off. Biting down on the thick leather, you thrust the knife into your thigh, parallel to the wood. Letting out a slight whimper, you pushed the knife in further, digging the offending object out of your flesh. Finally, the damn thing was out. You rolled the window down and chucked it outside. Your leg was bleeding profusely and you knew you needed to get some pressure on there or else you were gonna bleed out. You grabbed the bandana that Dean gave you and bit on your belt once more as you tied it around your thigh, letting out just one involuntary cry as you tightened it further. It freaking hurt.  
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Both Dean and Sam were observing the procedure happening in the back seat. Both had the same feeling of wanting to help, but knowing they could do nothing. Instead, they just stared in the rearview mirror with sympathetic expressions. Then the cry sounded and both were on edge. “You sure you don’t want to go to the ER? That looks pretty bad Y/N.”

“Since when does a little blood scare a Winchester away? Keep driving Dean I’m fine.” Dean sighed and, against his better judgment, just made his way back to your motel. The faster he got you there the faster you could patch yourself up and disinfect the wound. Dean pressed the gas harder looking intently at the road. A million thoughts were racing through his mind. He blamed himself for you getting hurt. He knew the whole ‘ladies first’ thing was bull when it came to hunting. He should've gone in first and taken the blow for you. Not only that, but then that black eyed bitch had to go and bring up John. Dean knew that John’s death truly was his fault, and that the demon would probably bring it up given what she was. That still didn’t make it hurt any less. The only comfort he gained was from the thought that the job was done and the demons taken care of. He turned into the last street leading to the motel parking lot and immediately stopped the car. The three passengers’ jaws dropped simultaneously as the sirens wailed outside…


	10. Black-Eyed Surprise

Sam and Dean stared as the last fire engine left the motel. The room that Y/N had been staying in (or what’s left of it anyway) sat in ash, burned to the ground with a slight smoke still emitting from charred furniture residue. Whomever had done this was specifically targeting Y/N. The two rooms to each side of hers sat unharmed, almost symbolizing a comparison to what the motel room used to look like. What was there now was simply a pile of ash and soot, black and burnt to the ground. Dean glanced in the rearview and the look on Y/N’s face was concerning. She had gone blank. Like it hadn’t even registered that everything she owned was now dust in the wind. Dean quickly pulled the impala off to the side and the three got out to check the damage.

Sam looked questioningly at Y/N, as she was walking perfectly fine after what seemed like a substantial injury. Chalking it up to her body being in shock as well as her mind, he shook it off. Sam walked under the overhang, as ash was still floating all around the air, drifting like feathers in the wind. He followed one especially bountiful cluster until it passed an overhead light. A light that had just begun to flicker. Reacting immediately, all hunters pulled out guns and flasks of holy water. Well, all except Y/N. Both Sam and Dean were a bit too preoccupied to notice the lack of reaction from the female hunter.

Not making the same mistake again, Dean took the lead, placing Sam and Y/N behind him in a protective crouch. A gust of wind howled and a whiff of something that smelled of rotten eggs blew by his nose and he immediately recognized it. Sulfur. “Careful, it’s close,” he warns as he encloses Y/N and Sam further behind him, his shoulders tensing with each passing moment. Sam mirrored his brother in an equally taut stance, placing himself between Dean and Y/N who, speaking of, was oddly relaxed.

“Really? Where? I don’t know Dean I think you’re getting rusty. It’s much closer than you think.” Dean turned slowly around, as those words just came out of Y/N’s mouth. She smirked and blinked, her eyes opening to reveal a shade darker than black where the golden irises once were. “Surprise! I took the hot one.” Both Dean and Sam lunged at Y/N, however, both were hurled mid-air and trapped on the outside wall of the adjoining room. Y/N, or the demon anyway, had them at a disadvantage. She looked to the brothers and flashed her pearly whites. “So what is this exactly? Winchesters take in a new puppy? That’s adorable. Funny Dean, I thought you hated dogs?” Dean gritted his teeth as he spat his smartass comeback. “I tend to make exceptions when they look like her. Only got one year left, trying to get all the tail I can.”

“Cute. Guess I picked the right meat suit then.” Y/N walked up to Dean and grabbed his chin, her lips inches from his. He could feel her breathe on his face. “You know, you and I could have a lot of fun. (Y/N began running the finger of her opposite hand down Dean’s chest at this point, popping each button of his flannel as she passed it). Heads up, I always like to incorporate just a little pain into my bedroom activities (She squeezed his chin tighter at this implication). Just can’t seem to get off without it, ya know?” Dean tried to remove his head from Y/N’s hands, but her grip only tightened further. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but the whole Satan spawn thing is kind of a mood killer. What do you want anyway you black eyed skank?” Y/N released her hold on Dean and turned her back to walk to her previous position in between the boys. “Oh, just what every girl wants; world domination, good sex every now and then, you know, the essentials.” She begins to turn slowly back towards them. “But I’ll settle for what I came here for.”

“And what exactly was that?”

“Your heads on a plate. There’s only one problem really. My hands are kind of tied. Sam, I have no problem offing you, but, see, Dean’s got a great big do not touch sign plastered all over that fine packaging. At least not for a year anyway. But don’t you worry your pretty little heads, I found a loophole. True, I can’t kill Dean, but it says nothing about torture. And I just so happened to have majored in it. Welcome to college town baby.” Sam struggled at this point trying to free himself and fight back. “What’s your problem anyway lady?”

“My problem? You two idiots exorcised my sisters and you’re asking me what my problem is?”

“Damn, I thought there were only two of you?”

“Three piles of sulfur. Three demons. It adds up boys. Guess I was just lucky you three weren’t smart enough to figure that out.” Of course, Dean had to add in his two cents. “Well not for nothing sweetheart, but your sisters didn’t exactly put up much of a fight. Took them down easily. Ever think maybe it’s their fault? Survival of the fittest and all that crap.”

“No, they were just stupid enough to stick to the guidelines. The job description and your contract. I, however, am an innovator, always finding loopholes and such. Not to mention how god damn sick I am of being an Erinye. All the rules and labels attached. Not everyone wants to avenge or whatever, like let me kill who I want to kill ya know? Free reign and all that jazz. That’s what got me in trouble and sent home the first time. But then word got out that a couple of morons were picking the lock upstairs and I sure as hell wasn’t missing that train. Once the gates were open, I knew that it was a new game. And I have you to thank for that, don’t I Sammy? So truly, thank you. I’ll try to keep that in mind when I peel the skin from that pretty face of yours. Yes, I know they may have been morons, but they were still my sisters. And I’m gonna carve that out of your asses.” Y/N pulls out the knife previously tucked into the back of her jeans. Walking up to Dean she runs the tip down his chest, popping the rest of his buttons to expose his black T-shirt underneath. The silver gleamed in the moonlight, casting an almost threatening reflection in Sam’s direction. “Don’t worry handsome, I’ll make sure you and I have fun first. I know you want to. Found out the second I jumped this hot piece of ass that you wanted to do the same.” Dean was looking anywhere but Y/N at the moment, clenching his jaw. “Feeling shy? We can fix that.” Y/N grabs Dean’s crotch (over his pants) as he let out a grunt. “Oh sweet Jesus Y/N fight this!” he practically screamed. Sam struggled immensely. Of course he was trying to save himself and Dean, but honestly, his main motivation for fighting back was to not witness the felony that his brother and new friend were about to commit. “Y/N’s long gone. But you know what, I’m sentimental. I think I’ll wear her a while even after I kill the two of you.”

“You son of a bitch, you’re coming out of there if I have to reach down your throat and pull you out myself.”

“Oh Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean. Always with that tough exterior. You don’t have to put the mask on with me, baby. I can see right through it. You may have earned your brother some extra time here, but you lost the girl. Just like mommy and daddy and anyone else you’ve ever loved. And that alone kills you. Which is exactly why this is my favorite part.” The brothers remained quiet. Y/N dragged the knife back up to Dean’s throat and nicked it slightly on the right. Dean let out a slight grunt as Y/N smiled. She brought the knife to her mouth and slowly licked the blood off of it. Both boys grimaced. “I always liked it straight from the tap.”

“Then I hope you keep a keg in hell, cause that’s right where you’re going.” Y/N whipped around to see Bobby Singer behind her. Before she even had time to react, Bobby was dousing her in holy water. The boys were released from their holds on the wall and instantly kicked into gear. Thinking fast, they both surrounded Y/N, each grabbing an arm and not breaking their holds. Y/N struggled, mustering up her supernatural strength to try and break free. Bobby continued to chant the exorcism as he began to pour salt on the ground in a perfect circle, encasing the three hunters and the demon within it. “Careful Singer, I’ve got leverage!” Before the boys could stop her, Y/N plunged the knife she was holding straight into her side, just missing a vital organ. She let out a laugh that sent shivers down each of their spines. “Make one more move, and it goes in her chest.” Without even hesitating, Bobby finished the exorcism and Y/N screamed as the black smoke exited her body in a whirlwind that disturbed the piles of ash and soot. She suddenly grew heavy in Sam and Dean’s arms, her entire body going limp as she hung unconscious.


	11. Bobby Friggin' Singer

“Now just what in the hell do you idgits think you’re doing runnin’ around with Y/N?” Sam and Dean stood perplexed. “Bobby, how did you know where we were?” Sam boldly asked. He and Dean shifted so that Y/N was now comfortably (well as comfortable as one can be after stabbing one’s self) laid across Dean’s lap. “We just opened a hell gate boys. You really think I ain’t gonna keep an eye on the two of you? Y/N I will say is a surprise though. Haven’t seen her in damn near three years now.” The boys stole a glance at the girl as she began to stir awake. “Bobby, the demons were Furies. We ganked three of them, but there could be more. That something we gotta worry about?” Bobby wiped the sweat from his forehead before answering Sam. “Well if you two morons had bothered to pick up the phone and give me a call, I coulda told you that a Fury is a kind of demon that usually runs in threes. You got Allecto, the angry, Tisiphone, the avenger, and I reckon’ we just had a run in with Megaera, the jealous. These ladies ain’t the nice kind either. They’re from Greco-Roman mythology and personify vengeance and the anger of humans who had died prematurely. Not to mention we let them out to give retribution to wrongfully murdered humans. I’m just glad we don’t gotta worry about those sons-a-bitches anymore.” Sam and Dean looked to each other. Dean quickly realized why that particular demon bitch had to bring up John’s death. He knew it was his fault and John was ‘wrongfully murdered’, but Tisiphone apparently had a stick up her ass about that sort of thing. Before he had a chance to wallow, Y/N made a noise, prompting all three men to stop and stare.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bobby Singer really was the last thing you wanted to see as your eyes fluttered open. Not only was your side aching to all hell, but the blood was getting everywhere. Including on Dean Winchester’s jeans. Oh crap. Bobby was gonna be pissed. Pretty sure _‘I catch you with those Winchester’s and I’ll take it out of your ass’_ was hard to misinterpret. Actually wait, why the hell were you on Dean? You tried to remember the past hour, but it was extremely cloudy. The last thing you remembered you were pulling into the motel parking lot of….oh god. The memories all rushed in and you immediately understood. You went and got yourself possessed in the car. The demon didn’t care enough to black you out so the whole ordeal was flashing through your mind, giving you one hell of a headache on top of everything else.

Glancing up, you saw Bobby’s face once more. He was bent down and pressing gauze all around your midsection. When did your shirt get lifted? “Well hey there kiddo. Bit off a little more than we could chew I see.” You groaned and tried to sit up, Dean’s hands immediately finding your shoulders to steady you. Once you could handle yourself Bobby looked at the boys and motioned for them to give the two of you a moment alone. Sam took out his bandana from his pocket and gave it to Dean to clean the blood from his neck. The blood you had caused. Seeing as Dean’s bandana was currently wrapped around your leg, you decided you’d have to buy them new ones, as a thank you of course. That’d make the three of you even. Bobby coughing refocused your attention. “You know what you did was real stupid. Going after one demon let alone three by yourself? I know I trained you better than that.” You refused to meet Bobby’s eyes. You knew you were wrong, but you wouldn’t be a true Weston if you admitted it. “Technically I wasn’t alone.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “No, you were worse. Now I know I ain’t your daddy or anything, but when I say not to get mixed up with certain folk, there’s a reason. I don’t need to be worrying about all three of ya at the same time.” It suddenly made sense why Bobby was so against you hanging out with the Winchester boys. He wanted to keep you hunting the small stuff; monsters that he knew you could kill with one eye closed. Winchesters never kept it small. Everything was world ending with them. You knew you’d eventually have to have this talk with him, you just never thought it would be this soon. Then again, maybe now wasn’t exactly the best time to give the whole _‘I’m not a kid anymore’_ speech given how badly you’d just screwed up.

“So you gonna tell me where the hell you been or you just gonna sit there lookin’ like the pooch that just got screwed?” You relaxed your face and gave Bobby a look. Your facial expressions had always been discreet, yet he seemed to have the decoder, as he called you out on them every time. “Well, I didn’t exactly graduate.” Bobby sighed. “Yea I got that. Now cut the crap smartass.” You laughed and in doing so, winced at the pain that the knife had caused. “I couldn’t do it anymore. Waking up every day and pretending like everything was normal…it’s exhausting. I mean, knowing everything that’s out there and still prioritizing some stupid piece of paper over that…it killed me. I was going insane, Bobby. After two years, I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew you’d tear me a new one if I told you, so I may or may not have booked a one way flight to California.” You waited in anticipation, studying Bobby’s face for any kind of reaction. You saw a brief flash of anger then it quickly changed to what could only be described as hurt. “I could throttle you ya know that? You bet your ass I’m pissed. I worried for three damn years and you’ve been off working on your tan? But you know what the worst part is? You couldn’t trust me enough to let me in on the plan. You can tell me anything ya idgit.” You felt bad to say the least. In reality, the whole _‘don’t tell Bobby’_ plan had less to do with fear and more with you finding your hunting independence. You never meant to hurt him. “How bout I send you a postcard next time?” Bobby cracked a smile. “You are just like your mama you know that? I suppose I’ll have to let you grow up sometime. But it is just my luck that you’d run into them boys. You really know how to pick em’ don’t ya Y/N/N? Don’t get me wrong I love those idgits, but Sam’s got his head in the clouds and Dean hits on everything with legs.” You snickered to yourself, knowing just how right Bobby was. “Why don’t you come stay with me a bit? Seeing as you kinda need a new set of, well everything. There’s always a room for ya. Hell, I’ll even let ya hunt again, once your good and patched up that is.” You smiled. You really didn’t deserve Bobby friggin’ Singer. No one did. “Deal.” Bobby ran his hand through your hair and nodded. He stood up and motioned to the boys to come help you to your feet. Sam was by your side in an instant and guided your arm around his shoulder as you struggled to stand. It was actually kinda funny to see how much he had to bend in order for you to reach properly.

Bobby was hooking your jeep (seeing as you were in no condition to drive) to the back of his pickup. “I’ll see you lot at the salvage yard. You boys take care of her, ya hear?” Both Winchesters nodded and Bobby hopped in his car and drove away. You all watched the car in the distance get smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely. Looking behind you at what used to be your motel room, you sighed.


	12. Goodbyes and New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last chapter folks! SO glad to have finally finished it. I think I fixed most of the mistakes but mind you I wrote this with a weenie dog walking all over me lol ;) Enjoy and make sure to tell me what you think and if you would possibly want more fics?? Thanks!!! xoxo-JC

You took your arm off of Sam’s shoulder. He moved to put it back when you just shook your head. This was something you had to do alone. You stuck your right leg out and took a step, followed by your left and so forth. The pain was excruciating, and you were getting it from all angles. Your entire body was sore from being flung into a metal piece of furniture. Your right thigh where the wooden cabinet had embedded itself was screaming at you with every bit of pressure you put on it. Your side where the demon had made you stab yourself ached worse with each step. There were tiny cuts all over your body from the glass shards and splinters that stung in the cool night air. To say you were hurting was an understatement. But you kept going regardless. You stepped on piles of ash and different bits of window glass, breaking them with your boots. You had a goal in mind and you were gonna reach it by yourself.

Finally arriving at your destination, you crouched down, your entire body yelling at you. You brushed away several piles of ash until you found what you were looking for. Thank god it was unharmed. The metal desk drawer must’ve protected it. You picked up the wooden frame and dusted off the bit of soot that had fallen onto it. No matter where you went, you always took with you this certain picture. It was you, your mom, and your sister, all standing in front of a white picket fence and smiling. It was the last picture you had of your family and it was your favorite. Your right hand brushed over your mother, remembering how soft her arms always were. It trailed down to your sister’s golden locks. She had gotten your mother’s hair and you were stuck with your father’s chestnut brown waves along with his tan skin. You always looked adopted in family photos considering your dad was never in them. But no one seemed to mind but you. Sure your sister would tease you, but you knew she had your back at the end of the day. You brought the picture to your chest and just let the leftover warmth heat your torso.

A hand on your right shoulder startled you out of your private moment. You looked up to see Dean standing there, his face sweaty and covered in ash. There was still a bit of blood residue on his neck and his green eyes looked down to meet your golden ones. Behind him, Sam stood tall, almost as if there for moral support. Whether it was for you or Dean, you didn’t know. You tucked the picture inside your jacket and grabbed Dean’s arm to help you to your feet. You crossed your arms. “So what now? I don’t know if you guys have noticed, but I don’t exactly work well with others. Sorry about your neck.” Dean instinctually brought his hand up to feel where you had sliced him. “No one’s asking you to. Just come with us to Bobby’s for now and we can figure things out there. Besides, I’ve done worse just shaving.” The corner of your mouth rose, threatening to turn itself into an actual smile. “But Y/N/N? Just make sure you get one of these (Sam pulls his shirt down to expose his anti-possession tattoo). I really don’t wanna have to see you or another demon grab my brother’s crotch again.” Your half smile became whole and you looked around. “As long as you don’t call me Y/N/N, you got a deal.” Dean’s face brightened having found something that irritates you. “Oh, now that’s sticking forever.” Your face turned toward him when he used the word _‘forever’_. Did he mean it? “Alright slow your horses Winchester, I said I’d accompany you to Bobby’s, not travel the world with the dynamic duo.” Dean thought for a minute. “All’s I’m saying is minus the whole possession fiasco, you did good out there. We could really use your help every now and again. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell?” You looked to Sam and then Dean. The invite seemed genuine enough. “I’ll think about it.” You say as you smirk at the boys. But that was a lie. You were most definitely in. Dean rolled his eyes. “Tease.”

“Jerk.”

You said it without even thinking…

 

Damn, you were in farther than you thought.

 

Executive Producers

##### ERIC KRIPKE  
  
ROBERT SINGER

##### 


End file.
